#something is coming soon

[astarionsilverbough]

lil sneak peek at some hellstrider content

[cuppykin]

HHNRNRNRNRNRNRNRGGGG, February 14th....

[apologetic-artist]

I haven't posted any of my OCs yet, so here's my stupid fella. His name is Sorrow, he lives in a library and likes to read :]

Anyway, here's a couple of other sketches

The second one is their first ref, it was rushed -_-"

Also, that one Alastor trend :'D

HELP?!

[shotmrmiller]

ghost getting himself a cute, soft girl he doesn't talk about much but is clearly obsessed with and price just thinks it's nice he's finally settled down, approves of the home he's made for himself, definitely approves of the one he's taken for himself.

soap asks kyle if he's seen you and he says, "yep. lovely bird he's got tucked away in her little dollhouse. makes great food, too." soap swears there's a subtle shift in his tone when he says "lovely", a hint of something deeper that flickers in his eyes for just a moment. soap simply sucks on his teeth, letting it slide. (although he knows that kyle's always been one to appreciate the good things in life.)

interest gnaws at him, a persistent itch he can't scratch. price likes you just fine, as does kyle. well what about him? he decides to bite the bullet and goes to simon with a knot between his brows, the corners of his lips tugged downwards. they've shared clothes, bullets, beds. if the other two got to meet you, why can't he?

"ya can come over for dinner on tonight. she'd 'ave my neck if she didn't formally meet ya anyway."

soap then asks, out of genuine curiosity more than anything else, if simon would have kept you in the dark from him hadn't he brought you up himself.

"ya meet 'er when i want ya to, boy, and not a moment before." the tone he takes is unmistakeable. his words are a command, not a suggestion, and soap instantly knows to not push further.

soap nods. "ah'll be there."

"course ya will. she'd be terribly disappointed otherwise."

yeah, he'd hate to have that.

soap sits in the living room, the soft glow of the lamp casting a warm light over the cozy place. with a full stomach and an unfastened belt, nursing a glass of kentucky. he can't remember the last time he ate that well or that much.

maybe it's the alcohol that loosens his tongue, or the fact that he wishes he also had a sweet little thing to keep at his side just like simon's doing with you now, but the thoughts he's been mulling over all evening since he first saw you tumble out of his mouth.

"while ah can attest to yer taste in sweethearts, can't say much about your alcohol. bourbon, LT?" he says, chest warm.

simon's arm tightens around your hips, fingers splayed possessively over your thigh. he shrugs, completely unbothered by the backhanded compliment. "can't be perfect in everythin', can we, sergeant?"

soap's cheeks burn furiously hot when you come to his defense with a smack of your palm onto simon's chest. "be nice to johnny. he's got a face that make up for some of his other flaws."

the teasing lilt in your voice unashamedly gets his southern blood pumping. he can't help it if certain things stir when someone as pretty as you look at him like that. soap swirls the amber liquid gently in the glass while keeping his limpid eyes on you, not even trying to hide the fact that his gaze hasn't wavered since your cheeky little comment.

you then whisper something in simon's ear, your cupped hand not even half the size of his head and soap has to rearrange himself from the outside when your teeth catch your bottom lip. simon looks up at you then, eyes heavy and half lidded, and a smirk plays at the corners of his mouth.

"'m not sure, love. you'll just 'ave to ask 'im yourself. go on."

you open that sweet mouth of yours, but simon cuts you off with a decisive wave of his hand. "no. you know how to ask for things."

your reaction to that is visceral, and you're on your knees faster than his alcohol-muddled brain can comprehend. don't look down 'er shirt, don't look down 'er shirt, don't-

"johnny, will you touch my pussy?"

he splutters at your question, completely taken aback, but it seems you're not done just yet.

"hands to yourself, sergeant. tha' not all."

you pout at simon, one that earns you a look that promises consequence, but do as he says.

"will you touch my pussy, johnny? pretty please?"

[goopysloppyslobsop]

Tommy!! :)

[icantdothistodaybruh]

What a terribly dull ending this is.

[inzuinzudesu]

A Christmas gift for @kawkawsrii! Happy holidays!

Bonus: they went to the grandline and will come back in part 2???? i hope so?????????

Bonus 2: cute ass lil shits whom i desperately wanted to put in but couldn't cuz i'm silly like that

[demaparbat-hp]

Would you ever share a piece of Lu Ten and Zuko having tea together in Zuko’s quarter’s? I think it would heal a part of me that was savagely destroyed as soon as I read the first chapter of For The Spirits.

There you are, Spitfire! I’ve been waiting for you!

Sorry I’m late.

A story of two (For the Spirits doesn't know how to heal—not yet).

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Lan Wangji Goes To Lotus Pier AU: Part 3: Enveloping Feelings.

(Part 1, Part 2, Part 4)

[mayasaura]

Realistically speaking, I don't think black coffee would kill Harrow. She drinks wine more than once, and I think it's even specified once that it's red; the more tannin rich and strongly flavored of the wines. Evidence suggests that, while she would in no way enjoy it, she could theoretically survive a cup of black coffee.

Therefore the question becomes: Would she? What would she do if she had to choose between keeping her tastebuds or impressing a hot barista? Could lean taut muscle dewy with sweat and steam compel her to do what God could not—finish a hot beverage?

[vifilms]

ARCANE SPOILERS, EIGHTEEN+

vi being a confirmed munch! she would literally give the best, the sloppiest, nastiest, most beautifully divined head ever received. you’re telling me she wouldn’t get on her knees for her girl at any moment. vi is the type to insist, even when you’re desperate to get your hands on her, she aims to please and that’s exactly what she’s doing to do. doesn’t matter where you are or really when it happens, she’ll see it through. practically doing tricks on your pussy, her tongue fucking in and out of your coveted hole, splitting your split open with her tongue, slurping at every drop, coating her gorgeous face with your cum. powder blue eyes so dilated, they’re almost too dark to function. she looks at you through her eyelashes, needing to see the look on your face when you cum, greedy hands digging into the roots of her hair, pulling you even further, the tip of her nose teasing your clit until you’re coming undone for her as her mouth pushes you through the best euphoric orgasm you’ve ever had just to be met with “ready for another, cupcake?”

[scottstiles]

Girl, I am outta here. There's a DVR at home full of unwatched TV waiting to remind me how ridiculously single I really am.

[teaboot]

you're so like. inspiring. or i wish i could be inspired. you reblog that post with the blue critter and you're like "im glad i was born on this planet". how do i manage to get that mindset. how do i manage to not want the pain to stop at any cost and enjoy what's still possible to enjoy

It's my first time here and I'm never coming back

[turtleblogatlast]

I love Raph and haven’t said that enough so to be more specific I love that Raph is a soft boy who loves bear plushies, a gross boy who eats an assortment of things that are definitely better left alone, a smart boy who is more than capable of taking down villains through planning and fortitude alike, a strong boy who is dedicated to training his muscles and fighting prowess, a teenage boy who loves his brothers but is more than happy to tease and roughhouse with them, an angry boy who sometimes lets his anger take a hold of him to cover the fear, a gentle boy who is generous with hugs and affirmations to those he loves, a capable boy who takes on more than should ever be expected of a teenager, a good boy who just wants to be a hero and slowly comes to realize the cost of that duty, a good boy who has no reservations about putting himself in the way of harm coming to his family, a good boy who’s a great brother and son and person and deserves only the best the world has to offer.

[adverbally]

No Love for You Like Mine

Written for the @steddiemicrofic February prompt “rose” | wc: 367 | rated: T | cw: allusion to period-typical societal homophobia | tags: established relationship, fluff, Valentine’s Day, hopeless romantic Steve Harrington

———

“You better not let me crash,” Steve warns. He wobbles as Eddie leads him into the bedroom, ring-covered hands covering his eyes. The warmth of Eddie’s body bumps into him with each step.

“I won’t,” Eddie promises, amusement coloring his voice. He guides them to a stop. “Now keep your eyes closed.”

Steve wonders if Eddie can feel the movement of his eyes rolling beneath his hands. “They’re closed.”

He immediately misses the contact when Eddie lets go and steps away, quiet on socked feet.

“I know we said no gifts, but I couldn’t not do something,” Eddie explains. He sounds nervous but excited, like he had the first time he played Steve one of the songs he’d written about him. “So, uh, you can open your eyes now.”

It takes a moment for Steve’s vision to adjust, then another for him to process what he’s seeing. There are candles lit on nearly every flat surface in the room, casting a warm glow over the otherwise dark bedroom. A bottle of champagne sits beside a platter of chocolate-covered strawberries on the nightstand. Rose petals have been sprinkled across the duvet in the shape of a heart.

Steve gawks at the romantic scene. “You…” His throat suddenly feels tight.

“It’s corny,” Eddie admits bashfully, “but it’s our first Valentine’s Day together so–”

He finally forces his gaze away from the display to look at Eddie, pink-cheeked and fiddling with the ends of his hair. “You did all this for me?” he croaks.

Eddie’s face softens. He pulls Steve into an embrace, arms winding around Steve’s waist while Steve loops his around Eddie’s neck. “Maybe I can’t go out and tell the world how much I love you with the whole–” his face scrunches disdainfully– “fancy dinner-date thing. But I can tell you. Show you.”

“You show me all the time,” he objects.

“In little ways, yeah, but not, like, a big romantic gesture.”

Steve shakes his head but he can’t stop smiling. “This is… Nobody’s ever done something like this for me.”

“You deserve it.”

It’s obvious that Eddie means it, love sparkling in his eyes like the candlelight, tasting sweet in his mouth when Steve kisses him.

[weirdglassthing]

Posting more of my ouaw fanart here because I think I’d die if I shared it on the discord and one of the party members saw it.

Some guys

Some husbands

0 impulse control